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IT'S RARE FOR you to see Osamu outside of school, much less in front of your doorstep. Yet, here he is, standing right in front of you.
Bags of groceries are clutched in his hands. His hair is disheveled and his cheeks are rosy, probably from the crisp and wintry wind blowing against him. He sports on a brown trench coat, a tight-fitting dress shirt, and jeans.
In comparison, you look down and notice that you're still in your Hello Kitty pajamas. You haven't even washed your face yet.
You rub your eyes and yawn. It's Saturday, and you wanted to sleep in, but of course, someone had to ruin those plans.
Ignoring you, Osamu places the groceries down and begins to take off his shoes. You peek inside and notice that they're filled with baking supplies, though you're tempted to open up the bag of chocolate chips on the spot and start munching on them.
"Is your mom here?" he asks, "I should say hi to her first."
You shake your head and explain how she's out for today; your mom decided to meet up with a few of her college friends. You remember how excited she was last night by the fact that she can "relive her glory days" and visit her old university. It reminded you of how you're going to be an adult soon, and you begin to ramble about how you fear growing up. Osamu listens to you intently.
Realizing the situation at hand, you stop yourself from talking further and frown.
"Never mind that," you blurt out, clearing your throat, "What are you doing here?"
With your hands on your hips, you tap your foot, waiting for his response. Osamu admits, "I'm bored."
You sigh. He shrugs and hangs his jacket in the adjacent closet.
